By KRISTIN DIZON, SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

Updated 10:00 pm, Monday, November 17, 2003

From the day she was born, three weeks after her due date, Genah Gist has been late.

She's been fired from five jobs, missed airplanes and gotten lectures from her 15-year-old son about being on time.

A typical morning goes like this: "I'm trying to check my e-mail and have breakfast while I'm curling my hair."

She's far from alone: Many people struggle with punctuality. And though it may seem a simple matter of people being rude, it's far more complex, says author Diana DeLonzor, who's written a book, "Never Be Late Again: 7 Cures for the Punctually Challenged."

"It's really more than poor time management. It tends to be a lifelong pattern," says DeLonzor, who lives in San Francisco and teaches punctuality seminars. "It's something that goes across activities -- most late people are late for everything."

The toll can be heavy. Lost relationships, jobs, promotions. Missed movies, doctor's appointments, concerts. Daily stress. A reputation for being flaky. Hits to self-esteem.

In 1998, a juror in DeKalb County, Ga., was thrown in jail for five hours for being late two days in a row to a rape trial. Earlier this year, a Las Vegas man won $250 in small claims court from a doctor who tried to squeeze him into his schedule, then kept him waiting for three hours. The doctor is appealing the judgment.

DeLonzor says there are too many downsides to chronic lateness for most people to do it willfully. Some, she says, like the adrenalin of rushing. "It's the same reason we like sports," she says. "The suspense: Are you going to make it?"

Some may have difficulty internally motivating themselves. Other theories include nature or nurture or a combination of both.

And they're not just late, but usually procrastinators who wait until the last dollar to go to the ATM.

Though attitudes toward time may be more malleable these days, DeLonzor says we still live in an industrialized, technological society that values timeliness. She says that still applies if you come from cultures and places where time is viewed more loosely, such as South America, Mexico or Hawaii, known for its relaxed "Hawaiian" or "island" time.

In the workplace, DeLonzor found that managers were less likely to promote a late person. They saw it both as a morale problem and lost dollars. Being late 10 minutes every day for a year is the equivalent of one week's paid vacation. And, employers weren't likely to notice people staying late to make up the time.

DeLonzor, who lives in San Francisco, knows her subject, because she was once chronically late, too.

"I was suspended three times in junior high school for tardiness," says DeLonzor, who got a little jolt from pushing deadlines. "I have been late for everything -- weddings, funerals, classes where I was the instructor."

She places the chronically late into seven categories:

The rationalizer has a hard time acknowledging responsibility for lateness and tends to blame outside circumstances.

The producer wants to squeeze as much into every minute as possible; they are always busy.

The deadliner subconsciously enjoys the last-minute sprint to the finish line; they feel more alive when running out of time.

The indulger exercises less self-control; tends to procrastinate.

The rebel resists authority and everyday rules; might run late as a form of control.

The absent-minded professor is easily distracted, forgetful and caught up in their own introspection.

The evader feels anxiety about his or her environment and tries to control it; their own needs or routine come before being on time.

Gist, one of a dozen people who candidly wrote to us about their own or others' tardiness, might be a bit of an "indulger" and a "producer."

"I always think that I can get more done in a smaller amount of time," says Gist, 33. "I have to pay for doctors' appointments when I don't get to see the doctor. I don't like to rush. I would like to get somewhere without having to rush."

She used to be 45 minutes to an hour late to appointments or to meet friends. Now, she is usually within 30 minutes of the scheduled time. Her clocks are set 20 minutes fast.

She says she's not great at time management, but also is prone to mishaps: poking herself in the eye while getting ready, spilling coffee on her clothes, her bathtub leaking into the neighbors' apartment, etc.

"I don't need to make up creative excuses -- these things happen to me on a regular basis. The running joke is that I'm going to be late to my own funeral. ... The hearse will probably get four flats on the way to the cemetery!"

Tardiness got Gist fired as a manager by her current employer, then rehired in a lower-level job. "I just can't get there on time," she says. "I always stay late to make it up."

Another man who wrote us, "Peter," has "rationalizer" tendencies.

"It's sort of a way to buy yourself a few minutes," says Peter, who is married to a punctual woman. "If you're late, you can enjoy your cup of coffee for another minute or two. You can apologize and that apology bought you 10 minutes."

At a temp job in the Amazon.com warehouse in 1997, Peter's regular tardiness was recorded on his bar-coded timecard. One day, he was tapped on the shoulder and told he wasn't being offered a contract. The job didn't suit his temperament, but he thinks being late sealed his fate.

Not getting hired by Amazon -- in the early days when stock options made some employees rich -- has meant a mortgage instead of a house paid in full, he says.

Though he's vowed several times since then to be on time, he's still chronically late to social engagements and his present job as a chef.

"I hate it when people are later than me," says Peter, whose parents were often late. "When I get there, I expect my friends to be at the cafe or restaurant. I'm hoping they got a good seat."

Others use "magical thinking" when it comes to the clock.

That describes "Rachel's" approach to time, who has indulger and absent-minded professor tendencies. "I'm artistic by nature and I don't have a real good concept of time," says Rachel, who sets an alarm watch for five minutes before she's supposed to leave. "I'm just not wired to be punctual."

She is on time to her job as a medical technician at 8 a.m. because she fears she'd lose her job otherwise.

She has asked her husband to help her wake up. "He'll grab me by the ankles and pull me to the edge of the bed, and we'll start laughing."

Rachel often is late to meet family and friends. She apologizes profusely, but admits to making up excuses. "Car trouble's always a good one. I've said I have a dead battery."

"It's something that I've worked on changing," Rachel adds. "I guess it's like some people have to watch their weight. I have to watch it or I'll always do it."

A classic producer, Phillip Stroud says even if he only has 15 minutes, he'll work on home repair and car projects. "Like most projects, they last a little longer than you expect and you're running late."

As a child, Stroud had to wait to be picked up at school. "My mom was chronically late and I hated it. So, it surprises me that I'm that way."

He is among those who are fine with their tardiness. "I think I'm justified and I would like other people to understand why I'm late, rather than changing my pattern."

That's hard for many people to do, because chronic tardiness causes friction in relationships.

For "Todd," a girlfriend's constant tardiness -- usually an hour to 45 minutes -- made him worry about her safety, as well as feel disrespected.

"I made it a big issue with her. We used to get into arguments about it," says Todd, who grew up with very punctual grandparents. "I said, 'You should respect my time. Would you treat your employer the same way?' "

Her response? "Get over it."

She's now his ex.

Todd also rents rooms in a large house. If someone is more than 30 minutes late to see one, he leaves. "It speaks volumes on other things -- how reliable can you be to get the rent in or pay your bills on time?"

DeLonzor says there are good reasons to work on punctuality.

"Late people don't really recognize how it affects other people's lives," she says. "If you get a bunch of early people in a room and ask them how they feel about late people, the fur will fly."

She says being on time or early can give a late person a big self-esteem boost, since they're not always starting their day or each encounter with an apology, a lie or feeling that they're not in control. Learning to be timely could reduce the person's stress and improve relationships.

But it's rarely easy.

"It's like any other habit -- if the person doesn't want to change, it'll be tough," DeLonzor says.